


king of hearts

by afearsomecritter (jsaer)



Series: five-card draw [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series), UnDeadwood (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Groundhog Day Loop, Time Travel, UnDeadwood Mini-series (Critical Role)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21566278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jsaer/pseuds/afearsomecritter
Summary: The priest feels familiar
Series: five-card draw [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554250
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49





	king of hearts

**Author's Note:**

> sort of sequel/Clayton pov to "jack of spades" and won't make much sense without reading that one first

The priest feels familiar.

He isn't fond of the sensation, but puts it out of his mind. He's come to know when his paranoia is acting up on him.

Starts to doubt when he finds the wanted poster, though. 

(he doesn't say anything during what turns out to be a 'this time')

-

The priest feels familiar.

He isn't fond of the sensation, but puts it out of his mind. It doesn’t feel like a dangerous familiar. 

(he bleeds out in the street)

-

The priest is familiar.

He knows him from somewhere, but it feels-recent. Feels safe, and unrelated to Amos Kinsley.

(desertion and murder, the wanted poster had said)

-

The priest-

Clayton Sharpe _knows_ this man. He knows the way his face looks when it's lying, when it's laughing, when it's a thin veneer over something more dangerous than a priest should be. Clayton Sharpe has never seen this man before in his life, and neither has William Reed or Tobias Yates or Franklin Verne or the half a dozen names and personalities back to Amos Kinsley. 

"I'm Reverend Mat-Matthew-" 

(clayton thinks 'lie')

-

“You just reminded me of someone,” the Reverend says after uttering a name he shouldn't know. There is something like grief in his eyes, worn soft like old fabric. Amos puts his gun away.

(the reverend never flinched)

-

The Reverend has a habit of fiddling with an old deck of cards. He doesn't actually shuffle them all that much from what Clayton sees, but the hands are too different every time for him not to. He doesn't seem to actually play games with the deck, just lays out something that looks almost like solitaire, but the layout is wrong.

He looks oddly meditative when he does it too, hands steady as they deal out the little inked pieces of waxed paper. He looks, Clayton thinks, a bit like he's praying.

He figures out why the first time he reaches for a spell.

(clayton can't make out what's on the back for the longest time. when he does the dark hollows of a faded skull meet his gaze)

-

Clayton Sharpe knows Reverend Matthew Mason. He doesn't know how he could, but he does. The others seem familiar too, but he's not thinking about that just yet, focused on diamond sharp knowing over smudged charcoal impressions.

He doesn't know how he could, but he does. He's a patient, cautious man, most of the time, and he waits until everyone is sequestered in their hotel rooms before he knocks on the Reverend's door. 

The relief on the Reverend's face hurts to see, after Clayton asks. 

(harder still is the knowledge that the man had leaned ever so slightly into the barrel, like it was a hand cupping his jaw instead of cold steel. there was a terrible kind of trust there. he doesn't think mason realized)

-

Clayton wakes up two weeks earlier after bleeding out from a snake bite. 

He keeps his hand clasped against the vanished wound on his side, panting and staring at the wooden beam ceiling of his room in the inn. He wants it to have been a dream, and then he sees the new Reverend, walking across the street.

(he doesn’t remember the impulse to reach but he remembers the shock of fabric and solidity of the flesh under it, and how it felt more real than anything had in days) 

-

"How did this happen?" Clayton asks. 

They’re alone in the Gem Saloon, everyone else retreated for the night. He has a half finished whiskey in front of him, and Mason has his cards spread out in front of him, another twirling back and forth between his fingers. 

The card stops between Mason’s ring and middle finger as he looks up. A king of hearts, Clayton notes absently. 

“ ‘Give unto me your souls, and I shall grant you power,’ ” The Reverend quotes, voice a low rumble. The hair on the back of Clayton’s neck stands on end. Mason taps the edge of the card in his hand against the table in a steady pattern, like a nearly inaudible heartbeat.

“I gave it my soul, and asked for the power of a chance. I have gotten that many times over, and I do not regret it.”

“Why?”

Mason collects the card back into a pile, and begins to deal them out again.

“Why would I?”

(the next time clayton remembers he’s standing in a fog covered graveyard, watching the mist swirl away from the reverend. oh, he thinks.) 

-

Clayton never remembers before Mason. He’s fairly certain this is by a certain faceless fucker’s design. 

“Afternoon, Matthew,” Clayton says, tipping his hat. Swearengen looks startled for a brief second. The Reverend’s face lights up.

(he always looks familiar though, something settling in his hind-brain when he catches sight of dark cloth)

-

Loyalty is an odd thing. If you take it, it will break. But if you’re given it-

Matthew absently hands his deck to Clayton, who quietly shuffles it and passes it back.

-it will grow.

\------------------


End file.
